Iustitia medicus

Preamble:
Elena Kagan is my gynecologist.
          My pelvic exam takes place in a cold castle room.
It is all grey and there is too much light coming from a window
                                                                                           too high to see out of. The speculum is made of
                                                                                           stone. I feel its fissures and rough edges scraping
                                                                                           inside of me. // There is a fossil in there.

Dr. Justice Kagan wears her black robe
with blue latex gloves, which emit the same strong smell as drug store condoms.
                                                                                 (She is in mixed uniform.)
She asks if I am sexually active. I answer.
She has the clerk in the corner strike it from the record. But it has already been spoken,
Aloud.
Strike through me and it is still true.

I do not own my medical files. A hiccup in HIPAA wherein Privacy Rule(s).

I tell her I am on the Pill.                                                She will refill my prescription for six more months.
That is all that is guaranteed.
I contemplate hoarding the tiny blue buttons
             in my cheek letting them dissolve into my bloodstream until my eggs crack and expire.

Elena Kagan finds my uterus to be perfectly normal.
          Upheld.